My Safety
by Travelingthrough
Summary: A short scene set in the days following the final episode. It contains the introspective meanderings of Patrick Jane on his new life.


Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, I am simply borrowing them for the purpose this story.

AN: This is set shortly after the final episode. I haven't written anything here for a long time, but felt that I didn't want to let these characters go quite yet. This is silly fluff, I apologise if that's not your thing. I know there will be many wonderful tags to the finale, and whatever you think of this, it's nice to be a part of that. Thanks very much for reading.

My Safety

I am indulging in one of my absolute favourite ways to spend my time.

I am Teresa watching.

I know she can feel my eyes on her now, there is a certain awareness in the way she's straightened her spine as she stands in the front of the mirror in only a towel. Teresa is fresh from the shower, towel drying her long hair and looking as tempting and lovely as she always does.

Lovelier, actually.

Though I admit I might be biased about that.

I can't believe I am looking at Teresa, my wife. And I can't even summon the words to describe my emotions when I admit that I am looking at Teresa and our unborn baby.

This is Teresa _Jane_ watching, and if it didn't mean leaving her side I would be outside yelling to the world about the utter wonder of my wife. Actually maybe that would get me into trouble and not in the good way where Teresa rewards my _nonsense _with kisses and smiles.

So yeah, running around yelling about her wonderfulness will get me into trouble, so instead I will lay on this bed and enjoy my wife. And as I was saying before, she is lovelier than a sunrise to me.

Right now, she nothing like the strong FBI agent I know her to be.

I don't mean she is not feminine, or an alluringly beautiful woman while at work and doing her job.

She is.

She is all of that.

But outside of this hotel room, outside of the Airstream, or her house, outside of _us_ she wears her femininity in more subtle ways. She is tough, and smart, and determined, and protective, and strong, and I could list her wonderful attributes until I run out of adjectives. Regardless, what I meant (what I am thinking and what I know) is that all of those wonderful attributes are part of her femininity and I am entranced by all of them.

But as she stands across the room from me now, stripped of clothes, of weapons, of the stress of our ordinary days, she is as beguiling as I have ever known any woman to be. I am ridiculously, endlessly grateful that I am the one who gets to see her like this. My face hurts from smiling so much these last few days, and I hope that never ends.

To say it has been a tough few weeks would be an understatement. We've had to work through our first real disagreements as a couple, or work through Lisbon's reaction to my _watching _her. Or rather watching out for her in my own terrified way. It is difficult for her to accept that I would do the same all over, that for me her safety is more important than anything in this world. I think she truly understands that I could not endure living in a world without her. That is a heavy burden to lay on such slight shoulders, but of all the burdens I have laid at her door over the years she seems most willing to accept this one. Anyway, we are returning to a new sort of normal and we are both trying to pay heed to the others fears and to not be controlled by them. Teresa will live with my terror of living without her, and I am trying to live with the knowledge that Lisbon may never spend a working day not at risk from gunfire or the violence of others. Except, I can't say that for sure now. We haven't yet had the _work _talk since our wedding, and since I got the best news I could never have imagined I would hear.

We've been hidden away from the world for three days in this ridiculously expensive hotel room, and I have genuinely never been happier. I feel no guilt in that admission, Teresa needs to know that, so I need to be free to feel it and tell her so.

Anyway, we are here. Right now we are here and together and I know we will always have the safety of this if we work together to protect and nurture it. I may have explained this to Teresa last night, and she may or may not have spent ten minutes fighting off a delightful fit of giggles because _nurture_ is part of my vocabulary.

"You are wearing a hole in my back with all your staring Patrick."

I smile at the amusement evident in her tone, despite Teresa's best efforts to disguise it.

"It's such a beautiful back, my darling, I would never want to do that."

I am rewarded with the amused sigh I was hoping for and leave the comfort of our honeymoon bed and move to be near my wife again. I find that I don't want to be out of touching distance of her for very long, and again I can't imagine that will ever not be true.

I stand behind her, placing my hands on top of hers as she tries to ignore me and carry on drying her hair. I can feel her body shake with suppressed laughter, or maybe something more sensual than that. The length of my body is pressed against hers, and I flatter myself to think Teresa is as susceptible to my touch as I am to hers.

I pull the towel we have been wrestling for from Teresa's grasp and throw it to the floor, catching her eyes in the mirror as I do it.

"Patrick, my hair will be a mess if I don't dry it. Go behave for 10 more minutes, I thought we were going to go out for dinner tonight. We have to leave this hotel room sometime."

"We will leave this hotel room, and if you want dinner then you shall have it. But I must insist you forget this notion that your hair could ever be a mess. Leave it Teresa, I enjoy it very much when its curls."

I lean down and kiss her shoulder, sliding my tongue along a scattering of freckles I am unspeakably fond of. I am rewarded for this affectionate touch with a sigh of what I recognise to be pure _want _from Teresa. So I do what I always do, I try to get more of her attention. I place whisper soft kisses along Teresa's skin all the way to the sensitive spot on the back of her neck.

"Are you just trying to get me out of this towel?"

From those few words I can tell she is teasing me, that she is happy, that she is loved.

"Well, that would be a bonus my dear, but I really just wanted to hold you."

So I do. I bury my face in my wives neck and wrap my arms all the way around her, whispering to her how beautiful she is because I can't think of a single reason not to.

Teresa allows me to hold her like this for a few moments then turns in my arms and hugs me in return. She kisses my chest through the soft material of the old t-shirt I am wearing, yet I shiver involuntarily at her touch as though her lips were on my skin. It feels so good to belong to someone again. Teresa is whispering to me that she loves me, and her words and the solidness of her presence in my arms makes me unspeakably grateful for her seemingly unbreakable faith in me. I am so grateful for her strength.

"Come woman, come back to bed with me."

I loosen our hold and take Teresa's small hand in my own and raise it to my lips for a kiss, then lead her back over to bed. As perfect as gazing at her across the room was, I will enjoy Teresa watching while she is lying beside me so much more.

I sit on the rumpled sheets, pulling her down into my lap so she sits across my legs and I can once again wrap my arms around her.

"How you feeling, Patrick?"

I can feel the whisper of her breath on my chest as she lays her cheek there, her fingers stroking the back of my neck. I know I should answer her right away, but her touch is too perfect, too _everything_ for me to form a response when I should. Instead I hold her a little tighter and hope she understands, that I recognise the echo of my own words from our wedding day.

"I am so happy sweetheart, so happy."

I pull back from our embrace slightly so I can take Teresa's hands in my own again, and frankly so I can look at her once more. Looking at her has always brought me more pleasure than I could put into words, but what I have now is new. I get to look at Teresa and see her through the eyes of her husband, and watch her happiness reflected back at me.

"Did you just make me sit in your lap so you could try and sneak a look down this towel?"

"Guilty, Teresa. I'll always be guilty of that."

But instead of trying to expose more of her skin, which I really should, I lean forward to kiss her instead. I kiss the fullness of her bottom lip, loving her emboldened reaction to my touch as she slides her tongue into my mouth and kisses me with a passion that makes me tremble. I lose myself in her touch, overwhelmed that we have made it to our own happy ending. I slow our kisses, instead of passion I offer worshipful, reverent kisses anywhere on Teresa's face I can reach.

"I love you."

I tell her because I do, and because her face lights up with happiness when she hears the words, and also because usually I am rewarded with reciprocal words of devotion.

"I love you too, Patrick. You okay? What are you thinking about?"

I kiss her cheek again because I can and because I want to.

"I was thinking about how happy I am, and how lucky I am."

"Are you sure? It's okay if this is overwhelming you know."

I am luckier than I could ever say, that I will spend the remainder of my life with a woman who truly cares for and understands me. Luckier than I can say that Teresa has been strong enough to stay by me all this time.

"It's okay, I am only overwhelmed with happiness. I promise you. Now as your husband I demand another kiss."

Before she can argue with me and call me an idiot I silence her with my enthusiastic kisses, turning us from where we sit on the bed so that we are lying on it instead. I kiss Teresa until her lips are swollen from my attention, then pull her close to me so we can lie facing each other, our heads on the same pillow.

If I can help it I am never going to sleep apart from this woman again. But I suppose I will be sharing sleepless nights with her in the coming months, and that I can't wait for. It hits me in waves, this realisation that I am going to be a dad again. The joy that envelops me every time I think about it is so overwhelming. I am speechless with the wonder of it all.

"Thank you Teresa."

I didn't mean to say that out, but the words are true so I can't regret them.

She rests her small hand against my check and strokes my face, as she looks at me with something close to concern again.

"You have nothing to thank me for, I am just as happy to be with you."

I move my hand to rest low on her abdomen, and stare into eyes for a moment.

"I know that, I do. But I don't think I've ever truly thanked you enough for always being my place of safety. Your kindness, and your goodness, and your strength, I hoovered it up and let it warm me even when I knew I didn't deserve it."

"You always deserved it."

"No I didn't, I know that. But I have you now, you're my family and I will spend the rest of my life doing whatever makes you happy. Because you made it safe for me to touch again."

At my words I turn my head to kiss the soft palm that is still cupping my cheek.

"You made it safe for me to feel again Teresa."

My fingertips stroke her abdomen, caressing both my wife and the child we both can't wait to meet.

"You made it safe to be happy, and I am so very happy my darling. So in return for all of that, all that you have given me, I am going to keep our little family safe with your help. We are going to build a home, and a life, and we are going to do whatever feels right for us. The three of us."

I kiss her again because the feel of her breath shared with mine, and the slide of her tongue against my own has become as necessary to me as breathing. My hands find their way to the knot of her towel just as the unmistakable rumble of an empty stomach stops our exploration of each other. I rest my head in the particularly perfect spot that it my wives chest.

"Sorry Patrick, I told you we should go out to dinner."

"And that's what we'll do, sorry I got distracted by you woman. Apparently you are my safety and my passion, and greatest temptation all wrapped up in one Teresa Jane sized package. Now let's get dressed, I can't have both of you going hungry."

We smile at each other, a silent acknowledgment of what we have. Of how far we have come. Of how far we still have to go.

I take my wives hand and walk with her into our life. Okay, dinner first, then new life.


End file.
